


Hallelujah

by MakeTheMoon



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M, PWP, Sexting, Toys, no seriously, post-press tour makeouts, sending nudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:15:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MakeTheMoon/pseuds/MakeTheMoon
Summary: They had agreed, on the press tour, no sex. No blowjobs, no handjobs, no humping - nothing. Kissing was fine. Making out was fine. That was safe. They were in unknown places that were changing every day, new hotels and new staff and new languages and it would have been too easy to get caught up, to get caught. Besides, Chris just wasn’t sure he was quite ready for all that yet. Wanted to wait for a more comfortable place and time, to prevent his anxiety from getting away from him. He’d kissed dudes before, but otherwise he was pretty green.The boys are back from a sexually-charged press tour in which they... did not have sex. SO CLOSE. YET SO FAR.
Relationships: Chris Pine/Zachary Quinto
Comments: 7
Kudos: 64





	Hallelujah

Chris’s palms are sweaty and his entire body overheats in seconds as Zach steps into the space between his legs. He’s got that look on his face, the look Chris has been attempting to avoid for weeks, but now there’s nowhere to turn, or run.

Before he can voice his concern, Zach’s hands are cradling his face and his lips are on Chris’s and his tongue is opening Chris’s mouth, fingers brushing languidly through the hair behind his ears.

Chris muffles a groan into Zach’s mouth and trails his own fingers down Zach’s naked chest, into the waistband of his jeans, tugging him closer to the stool.

They had agreed, on the press tour, no sex. No blowjobs, no handjobs, no humping - nothing. Kissing was fine. Making out was fine. That was safe. They were in unknown places that were changing every day, new hotels and new staff and new languages and it would have been too easy to get caught up, to get caught. Besides, Chris just wasn’t sure he was quite ready for all that yet. Wanted to wait for a more comfortable place and time, to prevent his anxiety from getting away from him. He’d kissed dudes before, but otherwise he was pretty green.

Chris was innocently sitting on a bar stool at the island eating Zach’s bread and cereal, having crashed here for the night after drinking maybe a touch too much. They had slept in separate beds, though, always finding their way to their own spaces for the night.  
  
Now, Zach’s fresh out of the shower, still damp and smelling absolutely delicious, skin soft and flushed, malleable under Chris’s hands.

Chris still isn’t sure he’s ready for all that, but god he wants. He tilts his head and allows Zach to get at his jaw, his neck, to press his nose into his beard and inhale, exhaling a moan. One of Chris’s hands has moved around Zach’s body, pushing at the small of his back while still pulling at the front of his jeans, right next to the button. He’d have Zach crawl inside his body right now if he could, feels like Zach’s trying already, but... but no. Not yet. Maybe.

Zach’s hands are resting on Chris’s thighs, thumbs pressing dents into his inseam on either side, rubbing rough circles there. “God, Chris,” he says, mouth back on Chris’s. They’re breathing each other’s air, and Chris feels like he’s suffocating, drowning maybe, but he sucks Zach’s bottom lip between his teeth and growls around it, digging crescents into Zach’s back with his fingernails.

Chris is hard as he’s ever been, stuck in his stupid tight jeans. Zach’s thumbs are snaking ever closer, almost there, and the panic clears the fog of his head enough to halt all motor processes, which Zach clearly notices. He moves to step back, stopped by Chris’s hands, his feet worming around the backs of Zach’s knees.

Zach rests his nose in Chris’s hair and pets his bicep, squeezing, catching his breath before he says, “I told you we’d wait. I’m still willing to do that, here at home.”

Chris snorts and says, “You’re the most patient man I’ve ever met.”

He can feel Zach’s smile on his ear, which he then bites and licks, humming directly into it. It goes right to Chris’s dick.

He’s got a choice here, he knows, and he also knows what the answer is, as disappointed as he is in himself for it.

“I should probably go,” he whispers. It’s almost a question. He’s sure if Zach pushed, right now, he’d stay.

Zach groans, broken by a laugh and a kiss pressed to his jaw. He’s been clingier since they got home two days ago - Chris truly didn’t think it’d be possible. He can feel the smart of the mark Zach’s sucking into his neck already. It’s not the first, and it certainly won’t be the last.

It makes him bold. It doesn’t happen that often with Zach; he’s more than willing to let Zach initiate, maneuver him and place him where he wants, but he also knows it has to be difficult for him, waiting like this.

So he wraps his fingers around Zach’s wrist, the one still on his thigh, grip loosened now, and slides it up, presses the palm over his cock and rolls his hips up - a promise, _later, soon_. “I do want you, Zach,” he says; looks him in the eye, watches Zach’s lips part and his eyes widen marginally, his irises blowing out again. Zach wraps what he can of his fingers around him and rubs his thumb up the length, as much of it as he can feel through the layers of fabric. Chris’s eyes close and his nostrils flare, can feel how hot he is between his thighs, and Zach must be able to feel that, too, the heat radiating off him. He’s boiling.

He pulls his feet back to the stool, removes his fingers from Zach’s pants. Zach’s hands drop from his body as he steps back.

“Welp,” Chris chirps, taking a deep breath in and out, “I’ve got a date with a bottle of lotion and a brand new butt plug, courtesy of you. So I’ll see ya around.” And it’s meant to be funny, it _is_ funny, getting a chuckle from Zach. It’s meant to make Zach hot and bothered and break the tension, but it’s also meant to get Chris the fuck out of here as fast as he can.

He rinses the dishes he used, Zach looking on from the doorway between the kitchen and foyer, and he opens the front door for Chris when he gets his sneakers on.

Zach’s jeans have slipped down, revealing a tan line from some boxers he’d worn on the balcony somewhere sunny they’d been over the last few weeks. He’s still hard, a little.

Zach grabs him when he gets through the door and kisses him, and, audaciousness growing, Chris runs his hands down his sides, wraps his fingers around Zach’s hips, dips his thumbs into the V of his abs, the divot disappearing beneath his pants.

He rubs his thumbs up and down the line on either side and mumbles, into Zach’s mouth, “I want to lick, and bite, and suck, all along here. One of these days.”

Zach moans so loud Chris has to glance to his right to make sure the neighbours aren’t on their deck. He pecks Zach’s lips again, unable to stop smiling, and walks away, hops in his car, drives home.

*******************

Not 40 minutes after he gets home his phone is buzzing on his nightstand, Zach texting _how was your date????_

Chris is lying on his back on his bed, hair stuck to his forehead, still hard in his own hand.

 _What makes you think it’s over? Have some faith in my performance, Zachary._ _  
__  
_And then _It’s going great._

Zach texts back immediately with a devil emoji and Chris would throw his phone across the room if he wasn’t so fucking turned on.

The next message that comes through is an image, but it doesn’t download right away. The text that accompanies it is simply _how do you feel about licking/biting/sucking this now?_

The picture still hasn’t downloaded, so he clicks it open manually and has such a visceral reaction, his mouth watering, his dick jumping, his ass clenching around the toy. It’s half of Zach’s lower abdomen, dark enough that he must have his blinds closed, nothing immediately obscene until you really look in the corner, until you notice the sheen of come dripping down his hip and into the crease of his thigh.

He grips his cock harder, then loosens his fist and fucks up into it as much as he’s moving his hand over himself and he comes in seconds, teeth biting marks into his lip that will likely be there for days, goddammit.

 _fuck youzach  
  
_ _that’s the plan, sugar_

Chris rolls his eyes and huffs a tired laugh. He snaps his own picture, hesitates for a while before sending. This is dangerous, if they were to ever lose one of their phones… He clicks send before the after-orgasm clarity fully hits and he can’t take it back then, anyway.

The photo is just his hand on his torso; neither of them have actually taken a picture of their junk, though it’s completely obvious that the photos are the result of something. It’s completely obvious that they’re _sexting_ , jesus. But it’s just his torso with his hand, palm-down, resting on his diaphragm. You can barely even tell that the glossiness is come, could nearly pass for water or sweat in the glare of the mid-afternoon sun shining through his window. Unless you really look; unless you notice the threads of it between his fingers, clinging to his skin like slick webbing.

He flops onto his side, throwing an arm over his head, and groans into his pillow. _Why_ had he left Zach’s earlier? If anyone knew, he’d like them to tell him, because right now he feels like he’d ruined a perfect opportunity - quiet, solitude, familiar surroundings. Fuck. He's an idiot.

He picks up his phone to text Zach, sees that Zach had sent a simple _goddamn_ followed by seven water droplet emojis, and he really does almost throw his phone this time. But he’s grinning when he types.  
  
 _Want to come over tomorrow? I’ll cook._ _  
  
  
__  
_He’s out of the shower before he looks at his phone again and finds Zach’s response. Five praise hands surrounded by two eggplants.  
  
Fucking emojis.


End file.
